An Original Belle

by Edward Payson Roe

  It was late when Marian and her father parted, and each felt that anew era had begun in their lives. To the former it was like a deepreligious experience. She was awed and somewhat depressed, as wellas resolute and earnest. Life was no pleasure excursion to herfather. Questions involving the solemnity of danger, possibly death,occupied his mind. Yet it was not of either that he thought, butof the questions themselves. She saw that he was a large-hearted,large-brained man, who entered into the best spirit of his age,and found recreation in the best thought of the past, and she feltthat she was still but a little child beside him.

  "But I shall no longer be a silly child or a shallow, selfish,unfeeling girl. I know there is something better in my nature thanthis. Papa's words confirm what I have read but never thought ofmuch: the chief need of men who can do much or who amount to muchis the intelligent sympathy of women who understand and care forthem. Why, it was the inspiration of chivalry, even in the darkages. Well, Marian Vosburgh, if you can't excel a kitchen-maid,it would be better that you had never lived."

  The sun was shining brightly when she wakened on the followingmorning, and when she came to breakfast their domestic handed hera note from her father, by which she was informed that he woulddine with her earlier than usual, and that they would take a saildown the bay.

  Brief as it was, it breathed an almost lover-like fondness andhappiness. She enjoyed her first exultant thrill at her sense ofpower as she comprehended that he had gone to his work that day astronger and more hopeful man.

  She went out to do her shopping, and was soon in a Broadway templeof fashion, but found that she was no longer a worshipper. A weekbefore the beautiful fabrics would have absorbed her mind and awakenedintense desires, for she had a passion for dress, and few knew howto make more of it than she. But a new and stronger passion wasawakening. She was made to feel at last that she had not only awoman's lovely form and features, but a woman's mind. Now she beganto dream of triumphs through the latter, and her growing thought washow to achieve them. Not that she was indifferent to her costume;it should be like the soldier's accoutrements; her mind the weapon.

  As is common with the young to whom any great impulse or new, deepexperience comes, she was absorbed by it, and could think of littleelse. She went over her father's words again and again, dwelling onthe last utterance, which had contained the truth uppermost in allthat he had said,--"Develop the best in your own nature naturally."

  What was her own nature, her starting-point? Her introspectionwas not very reassuring. She felt that perhaps the most hopefulindication was her strong rebound from what she at last recognizedas mean and unworthy. She also had a little natural curiosity andvanity to see if her face was changing with changing motives. Wasthere such a difference between prettiness and beauty? She wasperfectly sure she would rather be beautiful than pretty.

  Her mirror revealed a perplexed young face, suggestinginterrogation-points. The day was ending as it had begun, with adissatisfaction as to the past, amounting almost to disgust, andwith fears, queries, and uncertainties concerning the future. Howshould she take up life again? How should she go on with it?

  More importunate still was the question, "What has the future instore for me and for those I love? Papa spoke of danger; and whenI think of his resolute face, I know that nothing in the line ofduty will daunt him. He said that it might not be kindness to leaveme in my old, blind, unthinking ignorance,--that a blow, shatteringeverything, might come, finding us all unprepared. Oh, why don'tmamma feel and see more? We have been just like comfortable passengerson a ship, while papa was facing we knew not what. I may not beof much use, but I feel now as if I wanted to be with him. To staybelow with scarcely any other motive than to have a good time, andthen to be paralyzed, helpless, when some shock of trouble comes,now seems silly and weak to the last degree. I am only too gladthat I came to my senses in time, for if anything should happen topapa, and I had to remember all my days that I had never been muchto him, and had left him to meet the stress of life and dangeralone, I am sure I should be wretched from self-reproach."

  When he came at six o'clock, she met him eagerly, and almost herfirst words were, "Papa, there hasn't been any danger to-day?"

  "Oh, no; none at all; only humdrum work. You must not anticipatetrouble. Soldiers, you know, jest and laugh even when going intobattle, and they are all the better soldiers for the fact. No; Ihave given you a wrong impression. Nothing has been humdrum to-day.An acquaintance down town said: 'What's up, Vosburgh? Heard goodnews? Have our troops scored a point?' You see I was so brightenedup that he thought nothing but a national victory could account forthe improvement. Men are like armies, and are twice as effectivewhen well supported."

  "The idea of my supporting you!"

  "To me it's a charming idea. Instead of coming back to a dismal,empty house, I find a blue-eyed lassie who will go with me todinner, and add sauce piquante to every dish. Come, I am not sucha dull, grave old fellow as you imagine. You shall see how gallantI can become under provocation. We must make the most of a coupleof hours, for that is all that I can give you. No sail to-night, asI had planned, for a government agent is coming on from Washingtonto see me, and I must be absent for at least an hour or two aftereight o'clock. You won't mope, will you? You have something toread? Has the day been very long and lonely? What have you beendoing and thinking about?"

  "When are you going to give me a chance to answer?"

  "Oh, I read your answer, partly at least, in your eyes. You canamplify later. Come, get ready for the street. Put on what youplease, so that you wear a smile. These are not times to worry overslight reverses as long as the vital points are safe."

  The hour they passed at dinner gave Marian a new revelation ofher father. The quiet man proved true the words of Emerson, "Amongthose who enjoy his thought, he will regain his tongue."

  At first he drew her out a little, and with his keen, quick insighthe understood her perplexity, her solicitude about him and herselfand the future, her resolute purpose to be a woman, and thedifficulties of seeing the way to the changes she desired. Insteadof replying directly to her words, he skilfully led their talk tothe events of the day, and contemporaneous history became romanceunder his version; the actors in the passing drama ceased to benames and officials, and were invested with human interest. Shewas made to see their motives, their hopes, fears, ambitions; sheopened her eyes in surprise at his knowledge of prominent people,their social status, relations, and family connection. A geniallight of human interest played over most of his words, yet now andthen they touched on the depths of tragedy; again he seemed to beindulging in sublimated gossip, and she saw the men and women whoposed before the public in their high stations revealed in theiractual daily life.

  She became so interested that at times she left her food untasted."How can you know all this?" she exclaimed.

  "It is my business to know a great deal," he replied. "Then naturalcuriosity leads me to learn more. The people of whom I have spokenare the animated pieces on the chess-board. In the tremendous gamethat we are playing, success depends largely on their strength,weakness, various traits,--in brief, their character. The stakethat I have in the game leads me to know and watch those who areexerting a positive influence. It is interesting to study the menand women who, in any period, made and shaped history, and to learnthe secrets of their success and failure. Is it not natural thatmen and women who are making history to-day--who in fact are shapingone's own history--should be objects of stronger attention? Now, asin the past, women exert a far greater influence on current eventsthan you would imagine. There are but few thrones of power behindwhich you will not find a woman. What I shall do or be during thecoming weeks and months depends upon some of the people I havesketched, free-handed, for you alone. You see the sphinx--for assuch I am regarded by many--opens his mouth freely to you. Can youguess some of my motives for this kind of talk?"

  "You have wanted to entertain me, papa, and you have succeeded.You should write romances, for you but tou
ch the names one sees inthe papers and they become dramatic actors."

  "I did want to entertain you and make a fair return for yoursociety; I wish to prove that I can be your companion as truly asyou can become mine; but I have aimed to do more. I wish you torealize how interesting the larger and higher world of activity is.Do not imagine that in becoming a woman, earnest and thoughtful,you are entering on an era of solemn platitudes. You are ratherpassing from a theatre of light comedy to a stage from whichShakespeare borrowed the whole gamut of human feeling, passion,and experience. I also wished to satisfy you that you have mindenough to become absorbed as soon as you begin to understand thesignificance of the play. After you have once become an intelligentspectator of real life you can no more go back to drawing-roomchit-chat, gossip, and flirtation than you can lay down Shakespeare's'Tempest' for a weak little parlor comedy. I am too shrewd a man,Marian, to try to disengage you from the past by exhortations andhomilies; and now that you have become my friend, I shall be toosincere with you to disguise my purposes or methods. I propose toco-operate frankly with you in your effort, for in this way I provemy faith in you and my respect for you. Soon you will find yourselfan actor in real life, as well as a spectator."

  "I fear I have been one already,--a sorry one, too. It is possibleto do mischief without being very intelligent or deliberate. Youare making my future, so far as you are concerned, clearer thanI imagined it could be. You do interest me deeply. In one eveningyou make it evident how much I have lost in neglecting you--for Ihave neglected you, though not intentionally. Hereafter I shall beonly too proud if you will talk to me as you have done, giving meglimpses of your thoughts, your work, and especially your dangers,where there are any. Never deceive me in this respect, or leaveme in ignorance. Whatever may be the weaknesses of my nature, nowthat I have waked up, I am too proud a girl to receive all that Ido from your hands and then give almost my whole life and thoughtto others. I shall be too delighted if you are happier for mymeddling and dropping down upon you. I'll keep your secrets too,you see;" and she confirmed her words by an emphatic little nod."You can talk to me about people, big and little, with whom youhave to do, just as serenely as if you were giving your confidenceto an oyster.

  "But, papa, I am confronted by a question of real life, just asdifficult for me as any that can perplex you. I can't treat thisquestion any more as I have done. I don't see my way at all. NowI am going to be as direct and straightforward as a man, and notbeat around the bush with any womanish finesse. There is a gentlemanin this city who, if he knew I was in town to-night, would call, andI might not be able to prevent him from making a formal proposal.He is a man whom I respect and like very much, and I fear I havebeen too encouraging,--not intentionally and deliberately you know,but thoughtlessly. He was the cleverest and the most entertainingof my friends, and always brought a breezy kind of excitement withhim. Don't you see, papa? That is what I lived for, pleasure andexcitement, and I don't believe that anything can be so excitingto a girl as to see a man yielding to her fascinations, whateverthey may be. It gives one a delicious sense of power. I shall befrank, too. I must be, for I want your advice. You men like power.History is full of the records of those who sold their own soulsfor it, and walked through blood and crime to reach it. I think itis just as natural for a woman to love power also, only now I seethat it is a cruel and vile thing to get it and use it merely foramusement. To me it was excitement. I don't like to think how itmay all end to a man like Fenton Lane, and I am so remorseful thatI am half inclined to sacrifice myself and make him as good a wifeas I can."

  "Do you love him?"

  "No. I don't think I know what love is. When a mere girl I had afoolish little flame that went out with the first breath of ridicule.Since that time I have enjoyed gentlemen's society as naturallyas any other girl of our set, perhaps more keenly. Their talk andways are so different from those of girls! Then my love of powercame in, you see. The other girls were always talking about theirfriends and followers, and it was my pride to surpass them all. Iliked one better than another, of course, but was always as readyfor a new conquest as that old fool, 'Alexander the Little,'who ran over the world and especially himself. What do you think,papa? Shall I ever see one who will make all the others appear asnothing? Or, would it be nobler to devote myself to a true, fineman, like Mr. Lane, no matter how I felt?"

  "God forbid! You had better stay at your mother's side till youare as old and wrinkled as Time himself."

  "I am honestly glad to hear you say so. But what am I to do? Sooneror later I shall have to refuse Mr. Lane, and others too."

  "Refuse them, then. He would be less than a man who would ask agirl to sacrifice herself for him. No, my dear, the most inalienableright of your womanhood is to love freely and give yourself whereyou love. This right is one of the issues of this war,--that thepoorest woman in this land may choose her own mate. Slavery is thecorner-stone of the Confederacy, wherein millions of women can begiven according to the will of masters. Should the South triumph,phases of the Old-World despotism would creep in with certainly,and in the end we should have alliances, not marriages, as is thecase so generally abroad. Now if a white American girl does notmake her own choice she is a weak fool. The law and public sentimentprotect her. If she will not choose wisely, she must suffer theconsequences, and only under the impulse of love can a true choicebe made. A girl must be sadly deficient in sense if she loves a weak,bad, disreputable man, or a vulgar, ignorant one. Such mesalliancesare more in seeming than in reality, for the girl herself is usuallynear in nature to what she chooses. There are few things that Iwould more earnestly guard you against than a loveless marriage.You would probably miss the sweetest happiness of life, and youwould scarcely escape one of its worst miseries."

  "That settles it, then. I am going to choose for myself,--to staywith you and mamma, and to continue sending you my bills indefinitely."

  "They will be love letters, now."

  "Very dear ones, you will think sometimes. But truly, papa, you mustnot let me spend more than you can afford. You should be frank onthis point also, when you know I do not wish to be inconsiderate.The question still remains, What am I to do with Mr. Lane?"

  "Now I shall throw you on your own resources. I believe your woman'stact can manage this question better than my reason; only, if youdon't love him and do not think you can, be sure to refuse him.I have nothing against Mr. Lane, and approve of what I know abouthim; but I am not eager to have a rival, or to lose what I haveso recently gained. Nevertheless, I know that when the true knightcomes through the wood, my sleeping beauty will have anotherawakening, compared with which this one will seem slight indeed.Then, as a matter of course, I will quietly take my place as 'secondfiddle' in the harmony of your life. But no discordant first fiddle,if you please; and love alone can attune its strings. My time isup, and, if I don't return early, go to bed, so that mamma may notsay you are the worse for your days in town. This visit has mademe wish for many others."

  "You shall have them, for, as Shakespeare says, your wish 'jumps'with mine."

  CHAPTER V.

  "BE HOPEFUL, THAT I MAY HOPE."